What Ties Us Together
by musicals4life
Summary: "Hello, Remy?  Yes it's your dad.  Honey, I have something to tell you." Silence again as my sister responded.  "I think Milly has the disease." Thirteen's sister might have Huntington's, but is Thirteen willing to see her family again?
1. Chapter 1: The incident

**This has been bouncing around in my head for a while now, and here it is. I don't usually write chapter stories, but with this one I'm willing to give it the ol' college try! I always wondered what it would be like if Thirteen had a sister who had Huntington's like her and how she would interact with her and her family if she had to face them. This story is taking place around season five when Foreman and Thirteen were still together. In this story Thirteen is about 26 and her little sister is 15, which would mean that Thirteen's mom was pregnant when she went away. Milly is somewhat based off a combination of Thirteen and my's personalities, so she has the additude of Thirteen and the interests of me! Read and review! I update sooner if I know that other people like it! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own House M.D. or the characters...except Milly Hadley**

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High school sucks major shit. That was the only thought that I could even muster as I stomped into the house and slammed the front door shut behind me. My brain was mush in my skull as I went over all the homework my teachers had to assign us; finals were closing in and it seemed that every teacher was trying to cram in as many last minute lessons that our little minds would allow before our brains simply exploded. My muscles ached as I stomped into the kitchen for comfort food. Our director had given us another brutal rehearsal, claiming that even though finals were coming didn't mean that we couldn't give one hundred and ten percent into our singing, dancing, and acting and my body was hurting right down to the bones. I opened the freezer and brought out a carton of chocolate ice cream that was sure to be able to wash my exhaustion away. I walked over to the drawer to look for a spoon when my hand shook violently and the ice cream fell with a loud thud to the floor. Silently cursing everyone and their second cousin, I bent down and picked up the empty carton. Huffing an angry sigh, I grabbed the dish rag from the sink and went to clean up the sticky mess that now covered most of the floor. Apparently when ice cream falls it doesn't just fall, it explodes.

My dad came walking into the kitchen mumbling something about "slamming things around" just as I was bending down to wipe up the mess. He saw the puddle of chocolate and bent down to help clean it up but when he tried to take the rag from me I swatted his hands away. He gave up trying and settled for rinsing out the carton and setting it next to the stove where it would wait to be put into the recycling. My dad hated recycling, but I insisted on keeping the green tubs with one ultimatum; I put them out every Monday morning. Sure getting up extra early sucked, but it's better than having landfills in every blank space of land. Dad pulled out one of the wicker chairs that we kept at a small table in the kitchen mostly for show, the scraping of the chair legs across the vinyl floor itched behind my eyes and I fought against the desire to cover my ears to block out the nauseating sound.

"So the ice cream wouldn't scoop and you decided to throw it on the floor?" I heard the joke in my dad's voice, but I still glared at the floor. He sighed in exhaustion and I knew that he was running his hands through his gray balding hair, a tick that I had discovered he used when he was frustrated or nervous. He tried again, "you were angry at the world and decided to take it out on the defenseless frozen milk?" I nodded to myself.

"More or less," I smirked despite my anger. Finally the floor was clear of any stickiness and the rag in my hand was now a strange brown/blue hybrid color from the melted ice cream and was starting to drip onto my clean floor. I rushed to the sink and rinsed out the cloth before throwing it down the stairs to get washed in the laundry. Still not meeting my father's eyes, I inched to the hallway where my room waited. After confirming that I didn't want to talk about my day, dad heaved himself up and slowly walked out of the kitchen and into the living room where the stairs lead to the upstairs part of our house where his office was. Dad often was working in his office away from home as a lawyer, but occasionally he would bring his work home so he could be home when school let out. Even though he wasn't working during some nights, we often went our separate ways until dinner time when my brother would come over and we all would sit down for a nice "family" dinner…his words not mine. Even though my older sister had been invited many times, she had yet to show for dinner besides on holidays. She didn't keep in contact with us much and I honestly couldn't blame her; if I had the choice, I would run away from this family too.

I know that my father enjoyed having time with his children, but I also know that it pained him to be around us. We were a constant reminder of our mom who had died early in my life. I never knew my mother, but I had seen pictures and heard stories about her. I knew enough that my sister and I looked almost identical to her and my brother had her hair. Benny had inherited her curly dark brown hair and our father's light brown eyes where my sister and I had gotten the opposite. We both had our father's light brown hair that has a slight wave in it, although mine is too short to, so to say, "catch the wave". We both also inherited our mother's eyes, a cool aquamarine that people always seemed to notice. I knew that every time my father looked at us, he felt the pang of sadness that had consumed him when my mother died, wondering which of us is next.

From the stories, I also had learned that my mother died from a long term disease called Huntington's. I looked up the disease and learned that my sister, my brother, and I all had a fifty-fifty chance of contracting the disease. After looking up the symptoms online I had been watching them for signs that I had the disease. Of course it was ridiculous to assume that they would show when I was still a teenager, but paranoia had gotten to me and I found myself watching my every move very carefully. Occasionally I would have a tremor in my hand and that would get me extra paranoid. Obviously these tremors were simply my imagination acting up; I was watching for the disease, so I saw the disease. However, what happened today was not my imagination. Never had my hand trembled that bad, mostly it was just a little shaking in it, but this time it had jerked violently, unpredictably, and most importantly, out of my control.

I shook my head at my morbid thoughts and plopped myself onto my bed. I felt my body relax slowly and the tension leave my shoulders. Soon enough, I was drifting in and out of consciousness like a dead man in limbo; never fully anywhere, yet still everywhere at once.

Loud knocking on the front door jerked me awake from my peaceful sleep. I walked slowly out of my room, through the living room, and into our small entry area. As I walked, I tried to catch the silky wisps of the dream I had, but they were already drifting away into my subconscious where they would be logged and remembered. I opened the door and smiled up at my older brother who stood at a tall five foot ten inches. He looked healthy for being twenty nine, all those morning runs and gym sessions had paid off. He strode through the threshold and ruffled my hair in one swift movement. I shot a death glare at him as I ran my fingers through my cropped hair, trying desperately to untangle the knots that had appeared there during my nap as if by magic. I followed Benny's retreating footsteps as he made his way into the clean living room. I pushed past him when he stopped by the bookshelf and, ignoring his complaints, snatched up the remote and plopped myself on the couch. Our flat screen clicked on with a cheerful beeping sound, opening up to a scene from my favorite T.V. show _The Office_. The corners of my mouth turned up as the characters began bickering over who they would get for secret Santa and for a minute I almost forgot to be mad at the world, however, that quickly went away when Benny flopped down next to me, looking very much out of place on our white couch with his fancy suit and tie. Sure our family had money, but after Benny and my sister moved out my dad and I moved into a smaller house on the outskirts of New Jersey that was nice and elegant, yet still had a comfortable feel to it. I loved our house; it didn't feel like we were flaunting our money even if we had more than most.

I heard the door to dad's study open from upstairs and he loudly stomped down the steps. When he got to the bottom he stopped for a second at the sight of us, surprised to see both of us sitting on the couch…probably more so surprised that we weren't fighting. Even though Benny was about fourteen years older than me, he still sometimes acted like he was a teenager. Dad smiled widely and Benny stood up to shake his hand. I rolled my eyes sarcastically; they acted like we never saw each other. Dad sat down in the chair next to Benny's side of the couch, still smiling widely. I wanted so desperately to tell him that he had something in his teeth, just to make him check but I stayed silent.

"So Benny how have you been, did you win that big contract with Sattax?" Benny nodded, with a smile to match my father's.

"We beat Brinley to the punch."

"That's my boy," Dad clapped Benny on the shoulder and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. I almost did when Benny asked the stupidest question that he possibly could. "So is Remy not coming again?" Dad's smile wavered a bit, but if Benny noticed he didn't say anything.

"No, Remy has a case at the hospital that needs her attention, she sends her apologies." This time I did roll my eyes in, what I hoped, was a discreet way, but I saw Benny shoot me a glare from the corner of my eye. I chose to ignore it, Remy hadn't shown up for a dinner all year, and I didn't expect her to jump the gun now. I didn't know why she hated us so much, just that the few times she had called this past year her and dad had talked for only about fifteen minutes and that she never asked to talk to me. Personally, I was fine with that. I didn't need another older sibling in my life, Benny was enough. When we were kids, Remy never really hung out with me either…I guess that's the price I have to pay when she's eleven years older than me.

Dad and Benny both stood up quickly and started heading for the kitchen, figuring that it was time to start dinner, I followed them slowly, not at all interested in their conversations about business deals and tax credits. While Benny and dad cooked dinner, I sat at the small table, helping out now and then when they needed it. I hated the fact that I had to sit down and watch them cook. Usually, I'm the one ordering them around the kitchen. I love to cook and bake, but I was afraid that I would drop something in front of them and they would get worried. So, instead of cooking, I sat at the small table. I lifted my hands slowly, as if testing their control. Both of them were shaking slightly and I clenched them into fists and slid lower down in my chair.

When dinner was nearly done, I set the table nice and neatly; if that was going to be the only thing I could do that night, then I was going to do it perfectly. I sat down at my place and Benny and dad carried out the chicken, mashed potatoes, and fresh corn. After a quick prayer, we all dug into the food. After I loaded my plate with potatoes, I grabbed the gravy boat. I felt the muscles tense up in my arm and, before I could even think of stopping it, my hand jerked harshly, sending the gravy boat crashing to the table, most of the gravy landing in Benny's lap. I felt my eyes widen in horror and my hands automatically went to my face. I stammered my apologies as Benny dabbed at his suit.

"Benny, I'm sorry I didn't mean to. It was an accident, I'm so sorry." Benny held up a hand to stop me.

"Milly, it's okay. I know that you would never throw hot gravy on me on purpose." He chuckled lightly at his joke, seeming unfazed. However, I was growing more and more embarrassed by the minute. Tears swam in my vision and I stood up before they could spill over.

"Excuse me," as I ran out of the dining room, I heard Benny exclaim,

"Come on Mill, it was a joke!" I ran down the hall and into my room where I fell onto my bed and sobbed into my pillow. A knock at my door brought my head up. I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose as I yelled at the door.

"Go away!"

"Come on Milly, let me in, I was only kidding I know you didn't mean to do it." I ignored my brother's request.

"Go away!" Before I could shout some more, I heard Benny retreat down the hallway and I felt a grim satisfaction. I laid my head back down on my pillow and felt exhausted despite my earlier nap. I didn't dare to go back out there, or I would be harassed with questions and accusations. So instead, I laid on my bed and tried to pretend like my life was normal. That I didn't possibly have a disease that my mother gave me that would kill me around middle age. That I didn't have a suckish relationship with my dad, brother, and sister. That I was a normal teenager with normal problems like what I would wear to the next dance when, in reality, I had never been to our school's dances.

I don't know how long I laid there, but if I hadn't heard the front door slam shut, then I would have never known that the dinner fiasco was over. I listened for more sounds in the quiet house, and heard the door to my father's study slam shut. I quietly slipped out of my room and tiptoed down the hallway like a kid trying to raid the cookie jar. I walked quickly through the family room and up the stairs where I stopped at the door to dad's office. I held my breath as I listened outside the door. He sounded like he was talking on the phone to someone.

"Hello, Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital? Yes, I would like to speak to Doctor Remy Hadley if she's available. Yes, I can wait." There was a long stretch of silence and I felt my feet grow asleep as I stayed crouched outside of the door. When he spoke up again it nearly made me jump. "Hello, Remy? Yes it's your dad. Honey, I have something to tell you." Silence again as my sister responded. "I think your sister has the disease."


	2. Chapter 2: The Call

**Chapter 2 is finally up! Here it is, chapter 2...even though I only got one review...but oh well. I know that I said that this was going to take place sometime during season 5 when Foreman and Thirteen were dating, but I think that it's going to get too confusing to keep up with this fanfiction's plot as well as the show's plot. *warning, if you haven't seen season 6 finale, then there are spoilers!* So, instead, this is going to take place during season 7, after Thirteen gets back from her "personal leave." And...another thing also, Kutner is alive. Yeah, I brought him back from the dead...hey, if in my mind he's still alive, then in my fanfiction he's still alive! One more note: I mentioned this earlier, but I think that if I don't repeat it, then you guys will forget all about little 'ol me! I only got one review between the first chapter, and this second one! If you guys want me to continue to write this story (and the next chapter's gonna get the plot really going) then you have to give me feedback. I will write sooner (and better) if I know what you guys like and dislike! So please: REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! Thank you, and here's chapter 2!**

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"Do you have to eat like that?" Kutner looked up at me quickly.

"What?" He spoke through a mouthful of food and my mouth curled downward in disgust. He swallowed his bite of sandwich and asked again. "What?"

"You eat your food like it's going to come alive and attack you. Kutner, your food's still going to be there if you take your time." He rolled his eyes at me.

"Yeah, well I would like to finish my lunch before House finds us and steals it." I nodded.

"That's a good idea." Kutner laughed.

"Like you have anything to worry about, you brought rabbit food." My eyebrows bunched together and I looked down at my salad as if he had said I had a caterpillar on my plate.

"What's wrong with a salad? It's much healthier than a sandwich and some chips." He ignored the jab and continued to attack his food while I watched with a mild interest as I slowly ate my salad.

When we had finished with our lunch, we headed to the differential room to meet up with our colleagues. I settled into the seat beside Kutner and opened a file from the pile in the middle of the table.

5 year old Sharon Taylor: blood in vomit, constipation, migraines, and prone to rashes….oh fun. The minutes ticked by slowly, and still House had yet to show. Foreman decided to take over.

"Alright, the migraines could be allergies, but we should probably check. If the migraines are allergies, that means the rash is most likely the same. Taub and Thirteen, go check her house for toxins; Kutner, go run an allergy test and Chase, you can do the medical history while he's running the test." Before we could go to our destinations, Wilson opened the glass door to House's office and hurried inside.

"Where's House?" Everyone looked at each other, obviously wondering the same thing themselves. I shrugged.

"We're not really sure. He was here when we went on break for lunch, then when we got back he was gone." A thought popped into my head quickly. "I'd check in the E.R., he's probably looking for a more interesting ca-" I broke of my sentence when I saw House strode into his office dressed up like Sherlock Holmes, coat and all. Wilson's face crumpled in confusion.

"House, what are you…" House broke him off.

"That's elementary my dear Wilson, what's more relevant is why my team is standing around like a bunch of idiots when I heard Foreman give you jobs to do. Or, an even better question would be, why did Foreman give you jobs when he clearly isn't the boss." House turned and looked at Foreman who simply shrugged.

"I figured that our patient would get better quicker if I gave the team things to do to diagnose her, rather than raid the costume stores looking for my Halloween costume; which, by the way, already happened…months ago." House looked at him with a dumbstruck expression.

"Duh! I was looking for this year's costume, gosh Foreman, keep up!" House looked down at his watch. "Oh, I forgot that I had a meeting with the hot Dean, excuse me ducklings." Kutner laughed.

"So, just because you're dating Cuddy, you think she's going to let you slack off in her office?" House smirked.

"Course not," He pointed at Wilson. "That's what his office is for. Now, chop-chop!" He clapped his hands together loudly, giving us a sign that he wanted us to go do the things Foreman told us to do. I took off my lab coat quickly, throwing it on a chair behind me before I walked out of the office behind Taub. I lead him to my car and gestured for the file he took from the differential room. He handed it to me and I opened it to find the address printed clearly. I typed the street and number into my GPS system and pulled out of the lot quickly, earning me a glare from Taub, who was rushing to put his seatbelt on. I smirked and pulled into the oncoming traffic. While we were driving in the chaotic lunch rush, Taub tried at some light conversation.

"Can you believe that House went costume shopping when we had a patient?" I glanced at him.

"How can you not believe it?"

"Yeah, that's true. Anything to stay away from work I suppose." I nodded, hoping that the conversation was over for the remainder of the ride, but apparently it wasn't.

"So, how was your…break?" I shrugged nonchalantly.

"It was fine, I mostly relaxed at home. I did go to this one center in Washington that specializes in Huntington's though, which was good. They gave me a drug to try to minimize my symptoms and I got to meet up with other people my age who have Huntington's. It was actually pretty interesting." Taub nodded awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with talking about my death sentence, but I didn't have a huge problem with it anymore. It still worried me, a lot. But I realized during my personal leave that I can't let the disease control my life, otherwise I won't be able to live out my few last years. I remembered something and my eyes brightened. "Oh, I just remembered, they had a children's department there too." Confusion showed on Taub's face.

"Kids with Huntington's?" I nodded.

"Yeah, they have a whole children's department where they're helping the kids who develop the symptoms early deal with them for later life. It was really cool because I could meet with the kids, and they were all really sweet kids." I stopped my babbling, realizing that my voice had taken the tone of a mother and I stopped myself quickly before I could even go down that road. Before I opened another part of my soul open for the entire world to see, I shut my mouth and turned the radio on, filling the blank spaces of silence with a pounding base line and senseless lyrics.

"We found antifreeze in her apartment." Our colleagues stared back with blank expressions, like we were stating the obvious. Foreman spoke up.

"Most people who own cars have antifreeze; her parents most likely have a car." I sighed, showing my irritation.

"Yes, but most people keep their antifreeze in a locked cabinet where their five year old daughter can't get a hold of it; we found the antifreeze sitting on the kitchen counter." Taub nodded beside me.

"It made it really easy to find." I continued, addressing my colleagues.

"If she drank the antifreeze, it would cause the constipation vomit if it coagulated in her stomach. It would also cause the blood in her vomit if it ate away at the walls of her stomach." Foreman nodded confirming Taub and mine hypothesis.

"And during the allergy test, we found that she was allergic to Vicks." Kutner interjected.

"Which was in the medicine cabinet." I added.

"So, she gets a cold, and her mommy puts Vicks on her chest to get rid of her sniffles. The Vicks gives her a rash, and causes her migraines. Little Sharon was only allowed to drink water while she was sick, so when mommy and daddy were in the other room, she finds the antifreeze and the sweet smell tells her that it's okay to drink it, so she does." House concluded from the head chair. He nodded. "Good, run a stomach pump and put her on the four milligram allergy pills after the pump." He grabbed his cane and hoisted himself off the chair. He limped into his office and closed the door, signaling us to figure out who was to do which by ourselves. Chase got up to run the stomach pump, and Taub left to tell the patient and her family that we discovered what she had. I was about to leave and change out of my work clothes when House's voice stopped me. "Thirteen, may I see you in my office for a second please?" I stopped with my hand at the door and changed my course. I walked into House's office wondering what I had done wrong; I thought that my work today had been better than it had been in weeks. I looked at House questioningly and he handed me his phone. I took it with the questioning look still on my face. He shrugged. "It's your dad." I felt my face pale and I took the receiver from him.

"Hello?" My dad spoke from the other line.

"Hello, Remy?"

"Dad?"

"Yes, it's your dad. Honey I have something to tell you." Fear was in my heart as I imagined the most horrible things; Milly in a car accident, Benny in a coma, dad having a heart attack. Even though I didn't see my family often, I still cared about them; they were the only people I had in this world. So when there was bad news, my heart would skip a beat. I answered my dad, fearing the worst. I was very conscious of House sitting mere feet away from me as I spoke in a soft, reserved voice.

"What is it?" Then my father said the few words that I had always been afraid of hearing. I had always thought the disease would come for only me. Even if I was going to die early, it would be a small price to know that my older brother and younger sister could live their lives until old age; but apparently fate was not merciful.

"I think your sister has the disease."


	3. Chapter 3: The Intruder

**Hey guys...does anyone remember this fanfiction? Probably not! I'm so sorry that it took me forever to update, I've been so busy with school and homework and play practice, but it's here now! Chapter 3 has finally arrived, I'm sorry to say that it's not terribly exciting or...long, but I think that it gives more insight into Milly's character. So here's chapter 3, I hope you guys enjoy! **

**Please review! I always love it when I get a review on one of my story's, they usually make my day!**

**PS: most of the music I have listed that Milly likes to listen to are some of my favorite songs! I, however, don't own any of these songs or House in any way. (except for Milly, I own her!)**

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*Milly's POV*

I slumped on my desk as my French teacher Mr. Sardowski droned on and on about something or another. Really there was no point in listening to his babble, he was most likely saying the same things that all of my other teachers were saying. "Make sure to do your community service hours," "turn in your honors papers," and, my personal favorite, "don't forget to sign up to see the college representatives in advance; you know how fast those slots fill up!" Even in sophomore year they were peppering us to sign up to look at colleges. Even though I went to an advanced art school didn't mean that the students there had any more of an idea of what to do with their lives than any of the students in the public schools. In fact, looking around, I felt sure that most of the students there would never know what to do with their lives.

I was surrounded by freshmen. Not that freshmen in general were bad, but the underachieving, stupid, and just downright moronic freshmen that I knew for a fact only got in because their parents paid the tuition, could get on anyone's nerves. The only real reason I was stuck with freshmen in my class was because I chose to take choir during _my_ freshman year instead of a foreign language. Now that I think about it, I probably should have taken anything but a foreign language class!

While Mr. Sardowski kept talking, most likely out loud to himself, my thoughts strayed. No one had even spoken to me about what happened during dinner about a month ago, even though I was sure that dad was just trying to build up his courage. Pretty much, life went on like nothing even happened. Benny came over for dinner, him and dad talked about business stuff, and Remy never came over for dinner…though still I really can't blame her. Our drama department closed for the school year, seeing as the school year was almost over, so I had nothing to distract me after school. Although, the one thing that did change was that dad was working more and more in the office, and less at home. Not that I really minded having the house to myself, it meant more quiet time for me.

The loudspeaker stopped my mental babbling as the principle made his last announcement for the school year.

"Students, the school year is almost over and I would like to wish you a happy summer. Stay safe and have fun!" The entire class was silent as they listened diligently for the last bell (the only time they listened diligently in that class). When the last bell rang, the class cheered loudly along with every other class in the school. As the kids ran towards the pile up at the door, I gathered up my things and slowly walked to join them.

I left the school and started towards home. Finally I was free of that stupid school. The people there drove me crazy, and a lot of the classes were pointless. Now, I don't just think that because I'm not a people person, or because the classes were, well…pointless, that school just didn't do anything for me. A school rarely interested me for long, most of the time I got bored with the classes and students, and I enrolled at a different one. It didn't get me a lot of friends, but I was okay with that.

Sometime during the walk home, I shut my brain and inner thoughts off and tried to be content with the peace of a warm summer afternoon. I breathed in the scent of the fresh air and blooming flowers and smiled to myself, loving how it felt when the scents filled me. For the first time in weeks, I felt at ease with myself. As I was starting to feel myself become calm, I felt the muscles in my hand tighten and, without my permission, my hand twitched violently, sending my backpack crashing to the sidewalk. I bit my tongue before I started cursing everyone and anyone as I slowly bent down and picked up my backpack and slung it back over my shoulder. I continued holding my tongue as I walked the rest of the way home in bitter silence, trying to put the newest twitch from my mind and find my peace again. Apparently, I can't be in peace for long because if I am, my disease just kicks in and I'm reminded of my hell all over again.

I stomped into my house and threw my bag down in the kitchen before I walked into the family room, pausing as I saw the message light blinking on the phone. I pressed the button and listened to my father's voice telling me that he was going to be working late at the office again tonight, and to call and order food someplace and put in on the credit card for dinner. I deleted the message and made my way into my bedroom. Once I was finally inside my room, I shut out the rest of the world and finally I could be myself.

Not giving myself the chance to think, I immediately logged onto my laptop and brought up my ITunes account, listening to music always cleared my head. When the music started playing, I belted along with every song; something that was restricted to choir class, voice lessons, play practice, and at home. Unless I was doing one of those things, I never sang in public. But when I was by myself, I sang all the time. My music of choice was show tunes and pop with a little chorale music mixed into it. I sang along with Defying Gravity from Wicked, Positive from Legally Blonde, and Roxie from Chicago along with some Glee songs and some choir songs…yeah, I know that I like weird music. Sometime during my singing (and dancing) session in my room, I heard a loud crash come from out in the hallway. I shut off the music just as my bedroom door opened and I saw some older guy standing in my doorway. The guy looked like he hadn't shaved for a couple of days, and his clothes were rumpled like he didn't care about how he looked. I turned my attention from his blue eyes to the cane that he was heavily leaning on, grasped in his right hand. I brought my attention back up to meet his gaze. He opened his mouth and spoke, his voice slightly gruff.

"You look just like her."


	4. Chapter 4: The Truth

**Here it is guys, the fourth chapter! I know that it took a while to get it up, but it's finally here! This was originally going to be two separate chapters instead of flipping between House and Milly so much, but I decided to make it one slightly longer chapter! Thank you for sticking with me! I would especially like to thank _ fanatic_,_ xx-crispy-mnms-lover-xx_, and _Glasslock_ for reviewing the last chapter and a huge thanks to _Steph-xox_ and _smo13_ for updating frequently (and by frequently, I mean every chapter! You guys rock!) I couldn't do it without you guys!**

**Now, without further ado, I give you chapter four!**

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*Milly's POV*

His voice was a little gruff and I wondered just how old this guy was, he didn't look very old…maybe a little younger than my dad. I didn't realize that I was staring at him in what had to be curiosity and shock while completely disregarding his statement until he cleared his throat with a loud cough, not really trying to be discreet, more so trying to get my attention than anything.

"Oh sorry," I snapped out of my thoughts and continued, choosing to ignore his confusing statement, "who exactly are you?" He looked slightly confused.

"Who am I?" he asked incredulously, like I should somehow know who he was, I merely nodded. "Who are you?" I was slightly taken aback by his tone, both patronizing and confused…I had a feeling that he wasn't confused often and was getting frustrated with it…and with me.

"I'm Milly Hadley, now…who are you?" The man's eyes widened slightly like I had just given away some big secret.

"Your name is Milly?" I nodded, wanting to point out that he completely ignored my question and that I could just call the police and have this little matter of him breaking into my house resolved, with or without knowing who the hell he was.

"Who are you?" I asked yet again and he shook his head. For a minute I thought that that meant he wasn't going to answer me again and I was about to go all bitchy teenager on him.

"I'm Doctor House."

"You're a doctor?" Immediately fear flooded into me and I welcomed it, preferring it to the awful confusion and frustration that I had previously felt. I babbled on, "Why are you here? Is my dad alright?" he nodded, but then went off on his own train of thought while staring at me, his eyebrows furrowed; all of his staring was making me uncomfortable.

"You do look exactly like her," he mused aloud, now I was growing impatient.

"Who?" I practically exploded, but he just continued staring at me and I was seriously getting pissed with this guy. I actually started reaching for the phone to call the police when he stopped me with his cane, rapping it onto my cell phone and preventing me from picking it up. I glared at him through slitted eyes and he seemed taken aback.

"Now you really look like her," before I could yell at him again, he continued. "To answer your question, you look exactly like Thirteen." My confusion must have shown on my face because he corrected himself. "I suppose to you she would be Remy Hadley, not Thirteen…that's her work name." I detected a hint of pride in his voice…who the hell was this guy?

"You know my sister?" He nodded, finally as an answer to my question. "How do you know my sister?"

"I raised her myself, taught her everything she knows," I raised one of my eyebrows in skepticism and he went on, this time very sarcastic. "You're not always this stupid are you? I'm her boss, and in case you don't know what that means…I'm in charge of her," I glared at his patronizing tone.

"Yeah, I get that, but why the hell are you here?"

"Curiousity! Snooping too, but mostly curiousity."

"Curiosity?" He nodded "That's it? Are you really that desperate to know my sister's business?"

"Not necessarily, I already know quite a bit about your sister, but I know absolutely squat about her family…" I was curious now.

"What do you want to know?" he took that as an a-okay, and stepped heavily into my room, sinking to sit on my bed with his cane resting on his knee. I turned in my desk chair to face him.

"How old are you?" I held up my hand, stopping his words.

"If I'm going to answer your questions, you have to answer mine, deal?" he shrugged.

"Deal,"

"Fine, I'm fifteen and I'm, well I was a sophomore." He seemed shocked at my age.

"I thought your mom died when Thirte… I mean, when Remy was eight." I shook my head.

"No, my mom died immediately after I was born and Remy was nine, my birth was probably what eventually caused her to die. She was starting to drift away, but the nurses said that she could have held on a couple more years. My dad wanted her to get an abortion because he didn't want her to die, but she wouldn't allow it." My voice quavered as I spoke about the mother that I never knew, "she said that she was going to die soon anyway and that she wanted another piece of her to live on." I shrugged, trying to brush it off as not a big deal but this curious man knew better.

"So now you feel guilty, and you think that you caused your mother's death,"

"No. I don't feel guilty, I know that it wasn't my fault," he snorted, obviously not believing me. As he started to ask another question, I held up my hand again, causing him to come to a sputtering halt. "I answer your questions, you answer mine," he nodded and I put my hand down. "How did you know where I, well we live?"

"That's your question?" He exclaimed, obviously wanting something more…exciting. I nodded.

"I want to know, in case I need to get any authorities involved…" I was only kidding, but he rushed forward with his part of the story anyway.

_*House's POV and flashback to the not so distant past (that morning)*_

"…_go test for AIDS and ask him where he's been sleeping around lately," Thirteen, Taub, Foreman, and Kutner departed quickly, trying to nail this case so that they could all go home early…or maybe it was because the patient was dying. One can't be too sure of these things. As soon as they had gone, I limped towards my office, just about dying to be in my chair. _

_I sat down heavily, leaning my cane against my desk before I pulled the folder containing Thirteen's résumé and file towards me, searching until I found what I was looking for; the emergency contacts. I scanned down and saw her dad's address and phone number, writing it down before I shut her file with a snap. _

"_What are you doing with Thirteen's file?" I glanced up to see Wilson standing in my doorway, frowning in disapproval at my evident theft of Cuddy's office. _

"_Simple, Thirteen said that she was staying at her dad's place so naturally I had to find his address for…professional purposes," _

"_Uh-huh, and not just because you're dying to know more about her family?" I pretended to think about it for a second and sighed._

"_Well maybe that was another reason, I can be so forgetful sometimes," Wilson sat down across from me and shook his head at my sarcasm._

"_So what, you're going to break into her father's house and snoop around?" _

"_Well, I wasn't until now!" Wilson cursed himself under his breath. I smiled, "Cheerio!" and limped out of my office and to my bike, leaving for another productive day._

*Milly's POV (and the present)*

"So you snooped into my sister's file and found our address?" he nodded "huh, I thought it would be more climactic than that,"

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you!" before I could respond, he rushed on, "Anyway, next question, how often do you see Remy?"

We went back and forth like that for about an hour, him asking questions about my family and me asking mostly medical questions, with some about my sister. I tried answering as many questions of his that I could, but it was hard considering how often I see Remy. I was just getting ready to ask him about Huntington's when the phone rang, making both of us jump. I hurried to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Milly it's your dad." I silently prayed that he wouldn't be home soon; however luck was never fond of me. "I just wanted to call and tell you that I'll be home soon, with a surprise for you," I grimaced; my dad's surprises never were very good. I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice before I answered him.

"Great dad, I'll see you soon then. Love you, bye." I hung up the phone and hurried back to my room before House had long to look through my things. I was surprised to see him sitting in the same place I left him, twirling his cane between his fingers. "That was my dad, he said that he'll be home soon so you should probably leave," he nodded then stood heavily

"Well, thanks for not calling the police on me,"

"You're…welcome," he nodded then walked out of my room and I heard the front door shut as he left. I shook my head at his oddness before resuming my music session, while my head spun from all of the information I had gathered.

*House's POV*

I mounted my bike and pulled away from the house, my head still reeling from what I had found out. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Wilson's number, anxious to share what I had learned with someone else. Wilson picked up on the second ring.

"House, if you want me to come pick up your drunken ass, then you can forget it!" I ignored him and continued with my question that I had already planned to ask.

"Wilson, did you know that Thirteen had a younger sister?"


End file.
